


I'd Go With You Anywhere

by roqueamadi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Feelings Realization, M/M, Not Really AU, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 17:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roqueamadi/pseuds/roqueamadi
Summary: Bronn is secretly a time agent. After Myrcella’s murder, Jaime is ready to sacrifice himself to avenge her. Bronn tries to stop him, but at the very worst moment he is called back to his own timeline. Jaime follows him through the portal.





	I'd Go With You Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Birds of Tokyo
> 
> Thanks very much to [sarcasm_for_free](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasm_for_free/pseuds/sarcasm_for_free) for the beta.

 “Going somewhere?”

Jaime froze as Bronn materialised out of the shadows. “Were you waiting here all night?” he asked in disbelief, shouldering his saddlebag and quietly pulling the door to his quarters closed.

“Figured you might try something stupid,” Bronn said, picking his own bag off the floor. “Going after the Sand Snakes, are we?”

Jaime scowled. “I _was_ planning on going alone.”

Bronn rolled his eyes. “What’s the point in paying me to protect you if you go off alone?”

“I’m paying you to _assist_ me,” Jaime said through his teeth. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Until that left hand of yours can do it instead, you do.”

Bronn started off down the dark corridor towards the stables.

After a moment, Jaime followed. “We can’t let anyone see us leaving,” he warned.

“Better keep your mouth shut then,” Bronn whispered back, peering around the corner to check it was clear before stepping around.

In truth, Bronn was a little concerned about Jaime. His daughter had died in his arms and he had looked a little stunned, but he hadn’t done any of the normal things Bronn expected a man to do. He hadn’t shouted. He hadn’t thrown things. He hadn’t cried. He had barely reacted at all. Which, since by now Bronn was getting to know the way the other man’s mind worked, meant he was probably planning something. It wasn’t hard to figure out what.

They saddled some horses and managed not to raise any alarms as they rode out of the Watergardens.

“Where are we going?” Bronn shouted over the sound of the wind once it was safe to talk again.

“I paid a man for a tip-off,” Jaime yelled back. “The Sand Snakes were seen riding north-west. There’s an old fortress out there, a few hours ride through the desert. The lord there is a friend of Ellaria Sand. It’s a likely hideout.”

Bronn winced. “And how much gold did you pay before you got that little story?” he asked. “You know,” he continued, not bothering to wait for Jaime’s answer, “You coulda asked me to do it. You’re already paying me, and I could get him to talk for free.”

“I’ll remember to consult you the next time I need financial advice.”

They turned off the road and into the desert. It was still the middle of the night, and the cold air blew refreshingly into Bronn’s face as they rode. The stars seemed three times brighter than they were in King’s Landing. He honestly didn’t care where they went or what they did. If he was with Jaime, he was happy. He’d tried long enough to ignore that fact. But there was no point denying it to himself. Right now, their little adventure was looking like it might last a bit longer, and he didn’t mind.

However, when they crested a dune and came within sight of a stone fortress in the distance, Bronn’s heart sunk.

 _“That_ fortress?”

“That’s the one,” Jaime said.

“Well, that’s that then,” Bronn said with finality. Jaime glared at him, and he shrugged. “You’re not getting in there,” he said with a snort.

“You’ve barely even looked at it—”

“Aye, and I’m telling’ you, you’re not getting in there.” When Jaime continued to look at him with that half mournful and half pouty expression, Bronn sighed. “Look,” he said, pointing. “The sides are sheer. Even if we had spikes, which we don’t, that kind of rock will crumble away at the least notice. You fall, and you’re dead. Second, the walls are guarded and spiked. Even if you get over the spikes, the guards are gonna see you coming from miles away. They’ll shoot you before you’re halfway up, or they’ll just wait till you’re at the top and then they’ll skewer you. And you’re dead.”

Jaime didn’t appreciate Bronn’s analysis. He shook his head, irritated, and said, “How about if I just walk up to the gate and demand an audience? They won’t refuse me, they wouldn’t risk offending House Lannister—”

“They’ll shoot you as soon as you come into range. And you’ll be _dead._ ”

“They won’t,” Jaime said sullenly. “That’s not how these things work. You just don’t understand because you’re lowborn and uncultured.”

“Uncultured,” Bronn repeated with an amused and slightly offended huff. “Listen, my lord princess Jaime, they know who you fuckin’ are and they know what you fuckin’ want. They’re not gonna _talk.”_

Jaime sighed in frustration and gathered the reins in his hand. “I have to try.”

“Jaime!”

He kicked his horse to move off. Bronn shot a hand out and grabbed one of Jaime’s reins. The horse spun a quick circle and then pigrooted, half-kicking and half-bucking in aggravation, and Jaime toppled off onto the sand. Bronn dismounted and by the time he turned around, Jaime had already set off on foot over the top of the dune.

“Are you fuckin’ joking?” Bronn ran after him, grabbed his arm, pulled him back. Jaime threw him off.

“Let go. I’m going in there.”

“Are you fucking crazy? They’ll shoot you before you get anywhere near it.” He grabbed Jaime back before he could charge off again. Jaime shoved him away.

“I know and I don't care.”

 _“Jaime!”_ Bronn wrapped his arms around Jaime's chest, dragging him backwards. “I am not letting you sacrifice yourself,” he grunted. “You brought me on this stupid quest to keep you safe, right? You're not going down there.”

“Get _off,_ Bronn!”

Jaime struggled frantically, trying to twist away from Bronn’s hold. Bronn lost his footing, and brought Jaime with him as he tumbled back down the dune, rolling over Jaime three times before they both came to a panting rest at the bottom, the horses watching them with mild disinterest.

Jaime scrambled up. Bronn dived after him before he could gain his feet, holding both his arms where he sat in the sand.

“If you go over there, you’ll die,” he said, leaning close to Jaime’s face. “You get that? You’ll _die.”_

“I don’t _care!”_ Jaime shot back, raggedly, fighting against Bronn’s hold. “I don’t care, I don’t—”

He choked off, his head dropping to Bronn’s forearm, his left hand still fisting Bronn’s tunic, and Bronn waited patiently while Jaime heaved a few ragged breaths. He moved his hand to the back of Jaime’s neck, figuring that was about the most amount of comfort the other man would likely accept, and waited as the fight went out of Jaime.

After a time, he drew back. “I’ll set up camp,” he said. “We’ll stay here and watch for movement. Maybe they’ll leave again to try to throw us off their trail.”

Jaime didn’t reply, so Bronn got to his feet and took their bags down from the horses. He kept one eye on Jaime at all times, but he seemed to have lost all suicidal drive, at least for now.

Finally, Jaime spoke, his voice thick. “Bronn, I—”

And then, obscurely, a beeping sound came from Bronn’s bag.

“What’s that sound?” Jaime asked, looking up.

Bronn hurried to his bag, tipped it up on the ground and retrieved the offending item—a handheld signalling device—from the pile.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Jaime asked, getting up and coming closer.

Bronn took a breath, shutting the noise off and hiding the thing in his pocket.

“It’s nothing,” he said, turning to Jaime. He let his eyes sweep over him, taking him in properly, suddenly hyper-aware of the situation, now that—now that this was most likely their final meeting. Now that he was leaving. Jaime looked on the verge of tears, and he had clearly been about to talk to Bronn, talk through what had happened, for Bronn to be his voice of reason, like usual—and now he couldn’t.

Bronn took a deep breath, letting it out with a regretful sigh. He didn’t want to go. But the device in his pocket was buzzing against his thigh and he knew he didn’t have much time. So he did what he’d been wanting to do all day, and he stepped forward and threw his arms around Jaime, holding him tightly for a moment.

To his surprise, Jaime didn’t resist. His left hand even came up and grasped the back of Bronn’s tunic. He didn’t try to pull away.

“You’re gonna be alright, Jaime,” Bronn said quietly.

“Cersei might think differently once she finds out—”

“You’ll handle her. Everything will be fine. You did your best. No one could have done better.”

Jaime took a shuddering breath at these words and Bronn suddenly wished he'd done this sooner. He truly hadn’t thought Jaime would let him.

Finally, he drew back, squeezing Jaime’s shoulders tightly for a moment. Jaime met his eyes and nodded once, believing him, his eyes wide and trusting.

Bronn swallowed hard.

Then he clapped him on the shoulder, and went to move past him.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Bronn said quickly, through the breath he was holding tightly in his chest. “Need a piss. Back in a minute.”

He climbed over the dune and pulled the device out. He confirmed his coordinates. There wouldn’t be any excuses to be had about wrapping things up, not this time—he was an observer, and he’d observed long enough. If anyone was sent back to this era, it would be a specialist, someone who could try to figure out what the source of the strange ‘magical’ phenomena was; not Bronn. Bronn’s skills were in being where the action was and keeping his eyes open, nothing more. This time, he was going back for good.

Once he was halfway down the other side of the dune, the fortress in the distance, he pressed the button to confirm.

A few seconds delay, and then the portal opened up. Right there in the middle of the desert, a pink-white flare, and it seemed strange even to him, he hadn’t seen one in that long.

“See ya, Jaime,” he muttered, and stepped through.

The seconds stretched out as Bronn felt the stasis pulling at his body, at his atoms, threatening to shred him to pieces, but he knew he was safe. He had done this plenty of times, after all. The starlit night of the Dornish desert faded behind him, and the dim blue light of the arrival chamber loomed ahead.

He landed smoothly—‘landing’ was a false term, he was really transferring through a space-time fissure, but they called it ‘landing’ in training—on one knee, his head down, ready for the onslaught of the water and chemical bath that dumped on top of him as soon as he was fully transferred. When the barrage ended, the room ought to have fallen into silence aside from the dripping through the grates under his feet, but instead he heard coughing. He turned back, his eyes wide, his heart clenching.

“Jaime,” he breathed.

Jaime was sprawled on the grating, spluttering, the hilt of his sword and his golden hand crashing against the metal of the floor as he thrashed around.

The man had followed him. And now he was here. He was _here._

“Bronn, what— what was that—”

 _“Jaime,”_ Bronn exclaimed, taking two steps over to him and hauling him to his feet. “You— you— you _followed_ me?”

Jaime blinked at him through the water still streaming off his hair. “I didn’t want— I mean I wanted—” he paused, shaking his head. “What just happened? Where are we? What is this place?”

“Er—” Bronn pushed his drenched hair back. “We’re— well. This is my home. This is… where I come from.”

“Where you _come from_?” Jaime repeated, skeptical.

“I don’t come from your world, I come from here.” Bronn struggled with the words to explain it. “It’s three thousand years in the future, for you.”

“The _future?”_

“Yeah,” Bronn grimaced. “But you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t have followed me… They’ll kill you. If they see you, they’ll kill you.”

“Who? Why?”

“The other time agents. Because you’re not meant to be here!”

A siren blared briefly, the sound hollow in the large dim room, signalling the next phase of the disinfection process. Jaime almost jumped out of his skin at the loud, metallic noise, and the disinfectant spray that followed.

“Fuck, Jaime—” Bronn groaned through the fine pink liquid misting over them. “You just _had_ to follow me, didn’t you? Because I’m Jaime Lannister and I can’t think more than five seconds into the future.”

Jaime scoffed. “Well, since you’re apparently lord ‘plays it safe all the time’ now, why should I have expected it to be dangerous?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because it looks like nothing you’ve ever seen in your entire _uncultured_ life?” Bronn shot back. Jaime had the grace to cringe slightly, at least.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” he finally replied. “I didn’t realise your plan was to just disappear into some strange… tunnel thing. I thought we were—” he cut off as the fans opened up overhead and blasted them. Bronn gripped Jaime’s shoulders, holding him still, as their clothes dried off marginally.

“Jaime, this place is dangerous. You have to do what I say. This isn’t like back in Dorne, where you just ignore me and do what you want. This is for real. Whatever I say, just go with it.”

He couldn't let Jaime be seen. He couldn’t raise the portal again to send Jaime back, not here. And he couldn't wait until a better option presented itself. The decontamination process was almost done, and if he didn't emerge within a few minutes, a clerk would come looking for him.

He did have one other idea.

He turned, and strode across to the wall, checking the panelling, then kicked hard at a knee-height grating.

“What are you doing?” Jaime yelped.

“Come over here, quick,” Bronn said, bending down to wrench the buckled panel away from the wall to reveal a murky shoot. He leaned down, sticking his head in, breathing in. This was the one, alright.

“What’s that?” Jaime asked tremulously, his nose crinkling as the smell wafted up.

Bronn turned to him, grasped his upper arms. “Jaime. If they find you, they’ll kill you without hesitation, you got that? Get in there. It’s the only other way out. I’ll be right after you.”

“It smells like—”

“I know.”

To Bronn’s relief, the rubbish pile was soft enough for a safe landing, but not so soft that they sunk through. The liquid drained away into the tank below, leaving a soft pile of— he didn’t want to know.

Jaime scrambled to his feet after landing, looking around the huge garbage vat with wide eyes. “Bronn, what _is_ this, the _smell_ —”

“No time to chat. This way!”

He grabbed Jaime’s arm, pulling him across the pile with squelching steps, towards an access platform. It was a long climb up the side of the massive tank, and they didn’t have much time.

“You go first,” Bronn said, waving at the ladder. “And hurry.”

Jaime started climbing. Bronn came behind him, his face almost up his arse. “Faster,” he urged. Jaime hurried.

The ladder stretched impossibly far above them, into darkness.

“What is this place?” Jaime asked, his voice sounding hollow as it echoed off the metal.

“Garbage system for this building,” Bronn replied.

“We’re in a _building?”_

 _“Yes._ Don’t stop climbing.”

Jaime almost fell off in fright when a chute opened up nearby and garbage poured out onto the pile below.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were from… somewhere else?” Jaime asked, watching the rubbish fall from the chute back down to the surface of the pile below them.

“Not meant to tell anyone. My job is to just blend in and observe.”

Jaime grunted. “How much further?” he grumbled, glancing back over his shoulder. Bronn saw his eyes widen and the colour drop from his face as he realised how high they were, and quickly climbed up to the step below him, getting an arm around Jaime’s back.

“Are you crazy? Don’t look down,” Bronn muttered.

“Right,” Jaime agreed, his knuckles white on the rail.

“There's a ledge not far up,” Bronn said, leaning back on the ladder to peer ahead. “We should be able to get out that way.” He paused. “Just don’t throw yourself off the edge or anything.”

“Why would I do that?” Jaime growled.

“Because you have a fuckin’ death wish, of course,” Bronn replied, and tapped Jaime’s arm to get him moving again.

“I _don’t_ have a death wish—” Jaime said, continuing up the ladder.

“Oh? What was that shit back at the fortress, then?”

“I have to avenge Myrcella somehow,” Jaime replied, quietly.

Bronn glanced up but couldn’t see Jaime’s face. “Because your sister’d never speak to you again if you didn’t, hmm?”

Jaime didn’t answer.

“Well, I can tell you, if it was me, there’s no way I’d waste so much energy on someone who treated me like that.”

“How would you know? I haven’t met the lucky lady from _your_ successful relationship, which is where I’m assuming you’re getting all this advice from.”

“She doesn’t _love you,_ Jaime.”

“You don’t get to say that,” Jaime said savagely. “You don’t—”

“Ssh!”

Bronn heard the telltale hum of search drones in the distance. He pushed at Jaime to get him moving faster. “Quickly, or we’re done for,” he said through his teeth. “Over the ledge.”

Jaime hurried up to the ledge and slid over. Bronn came straight after him, urging him forward. It was a maintenance level, containing a small work area for maintaining the vat. Screens displayed monitoring information around the edge of the room and there was a messy table in the middle. Bronn spotted an equipment storage compartment along one wall, and wrenched the doors open. He threw everything out onto the floor, including the shelves.

“Get in,” he said urgently. The humming was close now, likely coming through one of the small access vents below them. Soon the drones would emerge into the tank and they would be spotted straight away if they didn’t hide.

“In there?” Jaime exclaimed, looking at the small cabinet.

“We have to hide. Get in. They shouldn’t be able to scan us through the metal.”

Jaime clearly didn’t understand what Bronn meant, but he got in, crouching on the side of the cabinet. Bronn stepped in on the other side, bent almost double—there wasn’t enough space for him to crouch as well—and pulled the doors shut behind them.

“Won’t they notice all the things on the ground outside?” Jaime said, clearly thinking Bronn was an idiot.

“No, they’re not that smart, they’re just drones. Quiet, now.”

He braced his elbows on the opposite wall of the cabinet, just above Jaime’s head, to support his awkward half-bent position. The drones came past, humming so loud the cabinet vibrated against the floor. Jaime looked up. Bronn’s face was only inches above his. He met Jaime’s eyes in the darkness, and then Jaime drew a breath to speak. Bronn quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him in the dim light. Jaime glared back, but he got the message. Bronn dropped his hand from Jaime’s mouth to his shoulder, squeezing slightly, trying to convey calm. Finally, the drones disappeared.

“What are they?” Jaime asked, as Bronn opened the doors again and stepped out, stretching his back.

“Just little flying machines. Don’t worry, they won’t be back for a while.”

However, he was still concerned they were going to run into actual human workers. Bronn glanced at the display of the closest monitor.

“That explains it,” he said with a short laugh. “It’s the middle of the night here. No one on duty.”

“How can you tell?” Jaime asked, following him over to the computer and looking at it like it was a demon.

“I’ll explain all you want if we manage to survive another few hours,” Bronn said cheerfully. “Let’s get out of here.”

The security door at the back of the room let them through into another automatic scanning system. Bronn stepped in reluctantly, Jaime following close behind him, and immediately the light turned red and something whirred heavily above their heads.

“Ah, fuck,” Bronn muttered.

“What is it?”

“We’re contaminated.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means we get sprayed down. C’mon, everything’s gotta come off.”

Bronn started tugging at the lacings of his jacket. Jaime stared at him.

“Everything? Why?”

Bronn rolled his eyes. “I won’t _look,_ princess, but you’ve gotta get that stuff off and get decontaminated or you’ll catch some disease. C’mon, hurry.”

Jaime did as he said, hurriedly getting rid of his swordbelt and clothes. They piled everything on the floor. Bronn finished first, and though he said he wouldn’t, he _did_ look. “Fuck, Jaime, look at your arse,” he said appreciatively, before he could stop himself.

Jaime straightened and tried to look over his shoulder at himself, concerned. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Bronn snorted. The timer ran out and the spray started up, coming from all directions. Jaime spluttered as it hit him in the face. Bronn knew from experience to keep his mouth and eyes closed. They were drenched from all angles, with a spray that was sharp and verging on painful, and when it died down he looked over at Jaime, who was self-consciously protecting himself with his one hand, and saw his skin looked red raw. Bronn’s was probably the same. It went like that because the system healed up any kind of injuries or illnesses it could detect. A bot flew over from the panel on the wall and attached itself to the cut on Bronn’s arm for a few seconds. He watched with mild interest as it sat there humming, and his arm stung for a moment, and then it flew away. The cut was now nothing more than a red mark.

Suddenly, Jaime grabbed his arm. Bronn looked over at him, wondering what was wrong, and then he realised—the system would heal _anything_ it picked up.

Several small bots whizzed over. The scanner zeroed in on Jaime, a laser highlighting his right arm, following when he tried to move it away. Bronn didn’t even know if the system could do anything so advanced, but one of the bots attached itself to Jaime’s stump. He yelled, trying to throw it off. Bronn grabbed him.

“Hold still,” he ordered, grasping both Jaime’s arms. He’d never seen this many bots focus on one person before, but then, he’d probably never seen anyone as injured before in a system like this.

“What’s happening?” Jaime yelped as Bronn held his right arm steady and more of the bots flew in to latch onto where his hand ought to be.

“This system can take cell samples and use your genetic code to map any part of your body, and it can print anything you need.”

 _“What?”_ Jaime exclaimed, clearly not understanding any of that.

“Your hand, Jaime,” Bronn breathed.

Jaime yelled out, flinching backwards. Bronn held him steady.

“It hurts,” Jaime exclaimed. “What’s it doing?”

“Just watch.”

Bronn thought it would take longer. But within a minute, the bots were moving up Jaime’s wrist—Jaime’s wrist which hadn’t been there before. They were analysing, reprinting and reconstructing almost instantly.

“Bronn…” Jaime gasped, half terror, half disbelief. “It… It can’t be…”

“Just give it a few more minutes and it will be. You’re getting your hand back, Jaime.” Bronn gave him a slight shake, grinning at him. Jaime just stared back at him, unable to comprehend, unable to respond. Bronn was still conscious of the fact that they were both fully naked, but Jaime seemed to have forgotten completely. He just stared with wide eyes as his hand was gradually reconstructed, and in a matter of minutes, the bots were flying away.

The light over the exit turned green. They were done.

Jaime’s legs gave out and Bronn just tried to slow his fall as he sank to the floor, his right hand held out in front of him, the skin smooth and perfect.

Bronn crouched down next to him.

“Give it a try,” he suggested, holding his own right hand out and making a fist.

Jaime copied him, the mundane movement making him gasp.

“Is it really back?” he asked, in a voice Bronn had never heard before. “Is it a trick?”

Bronn put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a trick, Jaime, don’t worry.”

“But— I don’t deserve it,” Jaime said, his voice choked. “It was meant as a punishment, and I haven’t improved, I haven’t changed, I didn’t even save Myrcella, I don’t deserve it back—”

“Don’t say that,” Bronn cut in, grabbing both Jaime’s hands and standing, pulling him to his feet. “It’s just a fancy machine. Like a maester, but 3,000 years more advanced. It doesn’t _mean_ anything. And getting it cut off didn’t _mean_ anything either. It just meant some cunt decided to chop it off.”

Jaime swallowed hard, tears evident on his cheeks.

“C’mon, let’s find some dry clothes.”

They gathered their swordbelts and wet clothes and exited onto the changerooms. Conveniently, the lockers were rather flimsy, and Bronn broke into several of them without much effort, searching through all the things stored in there until he found enough clothes for both of them to wear passably. He found jeans for each of them, tossing a pair at Jaime. They both pulled them on at the same time, and Bronn didn’t miss the barely repressed sob that came from Jaime as he buttoned them by himself, with two hands. Bronn didn’t comment, but turned his back to hide his smile.

A few more lockers broken open yielded shirts for each of them and shoes. They looked passable. Jaime reached for his sword, sitting on the change room bench, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Best not do that now,” Bronn said, emptying out a duffel bag on the floor. “We need to keep moving. No time for you to have another breakdown.”

Jaime’s cheeks darkened slightly as Bronn stuffed their clothes and both scabbards into the duffel. It wasn’t long enough, and the points stuck out the end after it was zipped up. Bronn rolled a sock of the both of them, which looked slightly less conspicuous, and then slung the bag onto his back.

“Let’s go.”

They exited onto a hallway. Bronn looked around, trying to get his bearings. “Okay. Okay, we’re higher than I thought. This is the hotel.”

“The what?”

Bronn started walking. “Like an inn,” he said over his shoulder. It was a quiet hallway, with nice carpet and heavy doorways, and it had a somewhat soundproofed feeling to it, so when Bronn heard a voice up ahead, he quickly tugged Jaime to the side. They each flattened themselves into the alcove of a doorway and Bronn peered far enough out to see a security guard walk past the T-intersection ahead of them. And then he heard the drones again.

“Bronn—”

“I know.”

Up ahead, there was a door to the fire escape. They darted down the hall towards it, pushed through into a dim concrete stairwell, and started down, their footsteps echoing. Bronn glanced at the numbers on each access door they hurried past. They started on the 31st floor. They needed to reach ground level to get out of the building. Bronn’s legs were shaking.

When he saw the door labelled ‘G’, he grabbed the handle and opened it carefully. On the other side of the door was a huge foyer, and they were immediately blasted with noise. Across the room, massive double doors opened up onto a ballroom, spilling out the voices of a large crowd and thrumming music. Although it was the middle of the night, a party was in full swing. There was an exit on the opposite side. Bronn started towards it, passing in front of a grand staircase leading up to the next level, when suddenly there was a shout from up above. Two guards had spotted them.

“Fuck.”

Bronn grabbed Jaime’s arm and pulled him across the foyer and into the ballroom. The guards were halfway down the stairs and Bronn saw the first one aim his weapon at them just as they made it through the doors and straight into the middle of a busy dancefloor.

He pushed through, well into the crowd of people, dragging Jaime with him. When he thought they were deep enough in that they couldn’t be spotted, he slowed, let go of Jaime, and started to turn—then, someone grabbed him. He almost shoved them away, but then he realised it was some kind of group dance; everyone was well and truly plastered. The person who grabbed him was a woman, grinning as she darted backwards to spin under his arm and then back again, then she let go, and someone else grabbed his hand. He glanced over his shoulder, and Jaime was gone. He looked around frantically. Someone lifted his arm, making him spin under theirs. He stumbled through the steps, following the pull on his arm, his neck strained in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to stand out, the point was to blend in, but he couldn’t see Jaime, he’d lost Jaime—

There. He spotted him, similarly tied up with another dancer in the semi-coordinated row of people.

“Jaime!” he called out.

Jaime looked around. When he saw Bronn, he somehow extricated himself from his partner, and reached his left hand out. Bronn grabbed it.

They grasped hands, pulled together. The crowd pressed them chest to chest. Bronn let his hands drop to Jaime’s hips, keeping a firm hold of him before he could be whisked off again. Jaime gripped Bronn’s shoulder tightly with his left hand, and he was still swaying slightly with the music, and Bronn found himself moving with him.

Jaime said something, but it was too loud to hear. A trace of humour danced in his eyes, though. For a moment, Bronn was caught, temporarily frozen in that gaze, the crowd and the music moving around them, Jaime’s body pressed against his.

Jaime leaned forward, and Bronn’s stomach leapt into his throat, but then he moved past, putting his mouth right to Bronn’s ear, and yelled, “What is this?”

Bronn snapped out of his moment and looked around.

“I think it’s a wedding,” he shouted back, his lips brushing Jaime’s ear.

“A _wedding?”_ Jaime exclaimed in disbelief. “Why is it so dark?”

Bronn just laughed, and grabbed Jaime properly around the waist. “C’mon, let’s move that way.” He nodded towards the other end of the room. “Try to blend in.”

He started off half walking and half shuffling awkwardly through the crowd, but after about three steps Jaime drew to a halt and wouldn’t let Bronn drag him along any further.

“What?” he said in Jaime’s ear.

“I thought you said blend in?” Jaime replied. “You look like an uncultured gorilla.”

Bronn frowned but when Jaime leaned back again, he saw the grin on his face, and realised he was teasing. “Let me lead,” Jaime said in his ear, and Bronn wasn’t going to argue with him as Jaime shifted his grip, getting his right hand around the small of Bronn’s back, then he stepped Bronn smoothly backwards.

Bronn had never danced. Not properly. Jaime, however, had probably had formal dances drilled into him from a young age, and it showed. Bronn knew when and where to step from nothing more than the way Jaime held him and moved him, and he even seemed to be adapting the style of his steps as they went, just from glancing at the people around them.

Bronn didn’t have attention to spare for other people right now.

After several minutes, they emerged on the other side of the massive dance floor and Jaime drew to a halt. It took Bronn several seconds to notice that it was over, and the sound turned gradually from a muffled distraction back to full volume as his brain caught up with their situation again.

“This way,” he said, nodding to the kitchens. They hurried past sinks and shelving stacked with dishes. There was no one in here by this point in the party, but the door at the back was unlocked. They burst out into a dark alley.

“Down here.” Bronn hurried Jaime along with tugs on his sleeve, out of the alley and onto the main thoroughfare. Jaime staggered to a halt, staring around at the tall buildings, the cars, the lights. Bronn tugged him along; the pod station was just around the corner. He hurried down the steps and jumped the ticket barrier to the bottom, glancing back to check Jaime was doing the same. An alarm went off; Bronn ignored it, running down the next set of stairs to the platform. A pod was there already, sitting suspended in the magnetic field of the tracks, like a bubble caught between two sets of chopsticks. It was only a one-seater, but it would have to do. He jumped in, and waved at Jaime to hurry in after him.

Jaime looked uncertain, stepping into the narrow footwell. Bronn squeezed over on the seat as far as he could.

“We’re not both going to fit in here—”

There was a shout from the direction of the staircase. Bronn spun Jaime around and tugged him down while frantically hitting the activation button on the console. He squashed into the seat beside Bronn, their hips and thighs pressed tight together as the hatch lowered into place over their heads. Then the pod shot forward. Their shoulders weren’t both going to fit; Bronn lifted his arm and set it along the back of the seat, behind Jaime, dialing in the destination with his free hand. The pod burst out of the tunnel onto the highway, the algorithm managing the system landing them perfectly into a narrow gap in the stream of traffic, amongst the other pods streaking along in streams of light.

Jaime yelled out in fright and threw his arms out, seeking a grip on the sides of the cabin, as though he might fall.

“S’alright,” Bronn said, wanting to laugh but repressing the urge, grabbing Jaime’s arms and pulling them back before he pressed a button or something.

“We’re going to hit something,” Jaime said through his teeth, staring at the chaos of the highway through the windows in the hatch, quivering between Bronn’s arms.

“We’re not,” Bronn said, holding him firmly. “It’s safe. Get used to it, we’ll be here a while. I know another portal we can use to get you home, but it’s a long way from here. Best settle in.”

“You’re right, you know,” Jaime said out of nowhere. They’d been travelling at least an hour. Bronn had been half-dozing. He started slightly, and shifted a little in the seat. He was still wedged hip-to-hip with Jaime, but his arm had slipped down from the back of the seat and now rested around Jaime’s shoulders. He almost moved it, but then he decided not to.

“‘Bout what?” he asked.

“She doesn’t love me,” Jaime said dully. “Not anymore.”

Bronn hesitated. “It’s got nothing to do with you, Jaime. You’re—”

“What?”

“I just mean, it’s her problem, not yours. She’s the one who can’t see you clearly.”

“What does that mean? Of course it’s my problem. I’m the one who wasn’t there for her. Who couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t even protect my own ch— I mean—”

Bronn sighed. “You don’t have to fuckin’ lie to me.”

“Well. I can understand why she would stop.”

“Well, I can’t,” Bronn said, his voice suddenly louder as his annoyance sparked.

“What do you mean?”

Bronn leaned back so he could see Jaime’s face clearly. “You’re the most honourable cunt I’ve ever met. You’re nice to people; don’t fuckin’ know why. You try so hard at everything you do. You do your duty, and you never complain. You do everything everyone asks of you. And you never take even a second for yourself. You’re so unselfish it’s almost suicidal. And you’re the most fuckin’ attractive man in the seven kingdoms, that’s for sure. Your sister is crazy.”

Bronn watched as Jaime spent several seconds processing that little speech. It was out of his mouth before he managed to rein it in, and he hoped Jaime would just accept it without comment. But, of course that wasn’t going to happen.

“You think I’m attractive?” Jaime said with an expression that was half innocent and half not, and of _course_ that was the thing that he chose to hone in on.

Bronn shrugged, sitting back, and didn’t bother stopping himself from settling his arm more comfortably around Jaime’s shoulders.

“How’s the hand going?” he asked.

“It aches,” Jaime replied, looking down at it and making a fist.

Bronn nodded. “It’ll pass.”

“This is going to change things for me,” Jaime said, flexing his hand. “I won’t have to be the laughing stock of the Kingsguard anymore.”

“Dunno about that,” Bronn muttered, closing his hand over Jaime’s to stop him from wriggling it. “I think you’d be better off keeping that a secret as long as possible. What are you going to tell people, you got it back by magic?”

“Why not?” Jaime asked. He didn’t pull his hand away from Bronn’s.

“People will be suspicious. They’ll have questions. Never a good thing, in my experience.” He tilted his head back against the wall, his eyes drifting closed again.

It was approaching dawn when they arrived at the old building with the illegal portal machine. He knew about this one because he’d been on the case to track down the perpetrator, before he got put on assignment again. The Time Agency clearly hadn’t done much about it since then; it was exactly as he remembered. He slipped through the loosely chained fence and marched up to the door, marked with a poster from the agency (Do Not Enter; under investigation). He lifted his foot to kick the door in.

Inside, the house had been gutted to make room for the portal. The setup was a mess of old technology, with piles of cables channelling the floor, connecting the platform in the middle to the processing power of the consoles set up around the edge of the room.

Bronn started up the power from the main terminal, and checked the system. It still looked useable. He suspected someone was keeping it maintained, for whatever reason. He didn’t care. He punched in the details and checked them three times before stepping back. The machine struggled to a start, building beams of light across the platform as the activator threaded them together, bringing the portal to life.

“It’s ready to go. You just step through, just like last time. This will take you straight back to where you left. Same time, same place. It might be a rougher trip. If you feel sick afterwards, don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

“Alright,” Jaime said, still watching the charging platform with apprehension. Then he glanced sharply at Bronn. “Aren’t you coming?”

Bronn wasn’t sure what to say. Jaime looked shocked, like he hadn’t considered up until this moment that Bronn wouldn’t be coming with him.

“It’s not my world,” Bronn said, with difficulty. “I was never meant to stay there so long.”

Jaime was staring at him. He took half a step closer, and looked unsure what to do with his hands. “But… You mean you’re going to stay here?”

“That’s the plan,” Bronn sighed.

Jaime tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “So you’re sending me back, and you’re staying here?” he said again, pointing at the ground for emphasis.

“Aye,” Bronn said quietly, feeling his heart wrench.

Jaime glanced back at the portal. “This machine—can’t it send us both back?”

“Why, you gonna miss me?” Bronn said. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and harsher than he intended. His stomach clenched when Jaime looked hurt.

“Will I see you again?” Jaime asked quietly.

When Bronn didn’t reply, he saw several emotions flick across Jaime’s expression. He struggled for a moment, and then said, “Bronn… Don’t stay here.”

“I…”

Bronn didn’t get to finish the sentence. The door suddenly burst open and three agents charged in, weapons drawn.

“Get down!” the first agent yelled. “Step away from that console! Hands on your head!”

“Jaime, run!” Bronn said urgently. “Just go.” Jaime was closer to the portal. He just had to turn and leap through. He would make it.

Bronn tried to intercept the first agent. The man raised his weapon, aiming at Bronn, and Bronn put his hands up in surrender, hoping to kick out when the guy got closer—then another agent charged him down from the side.

Bronn hit the ground. He saw stars. He hoped Jaime had got out; that was all that mattered. He didn’t care what they did with him now.

The agent rolled him over roughly onto his stomach, getting his hands behind his back to cuff them. Bronn’s cheek pressed into the cold floor, and he looked up at the portal with blurry vision. It was still open. Jaime hadn’t gone through.

His heart sunk. He looked around, trying to see if they’d caught Jaime. He was there, off to the left. Bronn strained his neck, trying to see. One of the guards was pointing his gun at Jaime, yelling at him to raise his hands. In the dim light, Bronn could see there was something in Jaime’s hand. His right hand. Bronn’s duffel bag was open on the floor.

The agent never saw it coming.

The sword flashed out and the man dropped. Before the others could figure out what had happened, Jaime was on them.

Even in his addled state, Bronn knew he’d never seen a swordsman like this. Jaime had always talked himself up, and Bronn had never believed him. Turns out he’d been wrong.

The three agents were dead before they could even fire a shot. Jaime was pulling Bronn to his feet, slicing the cuffs off. It took Bronn’s brain several seconds to catch up. Next thing he knew, his face was between Jaime’s hands, and Jaime was yelling at him, “—alright? Bronn, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” Bronn said, reaching to take Jaime’s hands from his spinning head. Jaime grasped his hands back and didn’t let go.

“You’ll have to come with me now,” Jaime said. “Otherwise you’ll be blamed for these three.”

Bronn looked around at the three bodies. Jaime had a point.

“What would I do, if I went back?” Bronn growled. “You don’t need me to protect you anymore.”

He tried to pull away. Jaime didn’t let him, holding him in place.

“But I do need you,” he said.

Bronn froze. Jaime was still holding both his hands, and something in his voice made Bronn think that— _hope_ that—

Bronn acted on instinct. He kissed him.

His instinct was right. Jaime tilted his chin up to meet him. Their lips pressed together, strange and new. Bronn was overwhelmed with the taste of Jaime, the smell of his skin, the feel of his body as he ran his hand down Jaime’s side… and he knew his decision was already made.

He drew back, enough to clearly see Jaime’s dampened lips and slightly flushed cheeks, and he grinned. “Fuck it,” he said.

He crossed to the console. He added his body weight to Jaime’s in the calculations, then turned back.

He held out his hand. “Let’s go, princess.”

Jaime didn’t even frown at the name. He grabbed Bronn’s hand and they stepped through the portal together.

The blinding bright warp field vanished behind them, and they were back. Back in the desert, in the middle of the night, their things lying in a pile just in front of where they landed, the horses watching them boredly. Bronn stood, breathing the clean air in with relief. Then Jaime turned and threw up right next to him.

He jumped away before he could get sprayed as Jaime emptied out what must surely be several days’ worth of meals. He stepped tentatively closer when Jaime started groaning through the heaves, and put a hand on his back, rubbing in what he hoped was a soothing way.

“Try to breathe,” he said, concerned at Jaime’s choked gasps, but Jaime did as he said and spat on the ground several times before finally stepping back away from the mess and collapsing onto his arse on the sand.

Bronn fished a water flask from amongst their things and uncorked it, passing it to him. “Small sips only,” he warned, before he let Jaime take it.

Jaime wiped sweat off his forehead and sipped weakly at the water.

“The illegal ones can be rough,” Bronn said. “Doesn’t do any permanent damage, though.”

Jaime nodded, and concentrated on breathing and sipping water for several seconds before he finally said, “Could we have come back a day earlier? And saved Myrcella?”

Bronn shook his head. “Doesn’t work like that. One person, one timeline. We can only go forward.”

“Oh.” Jaime sighed, and took another sip of water.

Bronn gathered up their things, and went to fetch the horses.

“Can they follow us here?” Jaime asked, watching as Bronn reattached the saddlebags. “The people who were chasing us?”

“Yep,” Bronn said. “Which means we’d better get moving.”

“Right,” Jaime muttered, and got himself carefully onto his feet, his face only slightly green as he accepted Bronn’s boost up into the saddle.

Bronn swung up onto his own horse and settled in, watching Jaime carefully.

“Where to, then?” he asked.

Jaime met his gaze levelly. “You were right, you know. I wanted to… When I came out here, I planned to…”

“I know,” Bronn said quietly. He didn’t need Jaime to finish the sentence. “What do you want now?”

Jaime let his shoulders slump, releasing a long-held breath, and looked up at the stars for a moment. “Let’s go back to the Watergardens,” he finally said.

Bronn smiled. “That’s a good idea.” He reached out and squeezed Jaime’s arm, briefly, before they moved off together into the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what you thought, or chat with me [on Tumblr!](https://roqueamadi.tumblr.com/) ^_^


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